


Forced Smile

by LetMeEntertainYou



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Autism, Gen, Masking, autistic!brian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 13:17:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19020712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetMeEntertainYou/pseuds/LetMeEntertainYou
Summary: Having to put on that stupid mask of Allistic-ness killed Brian. It was so energy sapping to have to think through every little move and gesture. Was he doing too much of this? To little of that? This is normal. That isn’t normal. Do this. Don’t do that.





	Forced Smile

**Author's Note:**

> My blog is Disabled-Queen-HC on tumblr.  
> Anon asked: Autistic!Brian being absolutely exhausted after a full day of social camouflaging and just stims wildly for a few minutes before collapsing into roggie :( had a rough day today :(

_Smile now._

_Nod after they speak._

_Put your hand out for a shake._

_Look for no more than 5 seconds._

_Smile again._

_Laugh._

_Keep smiling._

_Make your eyes big like your shocked._

_Ask them about their day._

_Smile._

_Keep your hands still and at your side._

_Smile._

_Keep smiling._

_Keep. Smiling._

Brian pushed through the door of his house, head throbbing, brain fogged and body fatigued. 

He’d been at meetings all day. For Queen. For guitar business deals. For the next tour.

While the content itself surrounding the meetings were no issue to Brian, in fact, he enjoyed talking about and planning these things, it was the masking that bothered him.

Having to put on that stupid mask of Allistic-ness killed Brian. It was so energy sapping to have to think through every little move and gesture. Was he doing too much of this? To little of that? This is normal. That isn’t normal. Do this. Don’t do that. 

The constant self surveillance, the suppression of his true nature, the denial of who he was, all of it combined into a spoon draining, confidence destroying act. And it was an act he did everyday. Without even realizing it, he’d slip on the camouflage of an allistic, blending in and going unnoticed.

What made it so heart wrenching was that it felt like he was lying to those around him, even his friends. Did anyone know what the real Brian was like without a mask on? Was it too late to show them?

But none of those questions mattered right now. His brain was fried. Brian dropped everything onto the floor, feet dragging along the carpet as he made his way to the room, his mask melting off with each step.

He opened his door, stepping in. His room was like a zone of comfort. One of the few places he could just  _be_. And so Brian  _was_.

He started by shaking his head, curly hair bouncing with the movement. It felt nice, the air wooshing through his hair, the sound of his soft coils crashing against his ears.

Then he started to shake his hands while flicking his fingers. Slow at first, but faster and faster as the feelings of the day started to bubble in his stomach.

His feet started to rock from his heels and back to the tip of his toes, before they took off, jumping in place, a beautiful burn developing in his calves. 

He let out some squeaks and squished his eyes shut, his movements growing in speed and intensity, Brian wanting to shed every lost drop of that day into the space around him. 

He kept going, squeaks turning into groans and squeals, body beginning to sweat, lungs gasping for air, head leaking every bad emotion and attracting anything bright and good. 

Brian only stopped when his body could not possibly keep going. He came to a halt, wobbling, panting, wiping the perspiration from his brow. He hunched over hands on his knees trying to catch his breath.

He wasn’t feeling fantastic, but he was a hell of a lot better than he was just 5 minutes ago. He was going to fling himself into bed and take a nap, unbothered by the grime he had just accumulated when there was a knock at his door.

He spluttered out, “Come in,” still winded from his wild stimming session. 

The door cracked open timidly, Roger slinking into the room. 

“Rough day, mate?” he asked, hands behind his back. Roger was very understanding of Brian’s “peculiarities”. They sometimes made him nervous because he wasn’t always quite sure what to do or say that could help, but he always tried, which is what counted to Brian.

“Not great,” Brian replied, assuming Roger heard the jumping and squealing. 

“You, uh, feeling okay? After that?” Roger asked, his socked foot toeing at the floor anxiously.

“I think so,” Brian said, letting out a small but genuine smile.

Roger nodded, saying, “Good, good,” as he looked around the dark room, his unease more noticeable than sharpie on a forehead. 

Allistics being uncomfortable and confused always made Brian laugh. For once, maybe they could understand an ounce of the autistic experience.  _Maybe_.

Brian giggled, shaking his head. “Thank you for checking in, Rog. Mean’s a lot to me,” he said, which made Roger’s face light up. 

They bid each other a goodnight but before Roger could get through the doorway, Brian called him back in.

“Um, I think I can feel even more better if I, uh, well,” Brian opened his arms for a hug. He wasn’t always pro-touching other people, but sometimes a nice hug could really brighten his mood. Only if it came from a good friend though.

Roger grinned, opening up his arms too, walking into Brian’s embrace and squeezing him tight.

“You wanted a hug?” Roger said, not really a question. His head rested on Brian’s shoulder, warm and snuggly. Brian just nodded, his chin atop Roger’s head, feeling different shades of yellow and sparklers fill his tummy and head. 

The world was a very hard and confusing place. It made Brian feel small, pathetic and dumb a lot of the times. He felt it was innavigable on a good day.

But here, where he could be himself, wrapped up in his best friends arms, that didn’t really matter. He felt safe and loved and warm. He felt like himself. No mask in sight.


End file.
